Urushi is a traditional lacquer derived from the sap of Toxicodendron vernicifluum — the Japanese sumac tree — and forms the basis of one of the oldest artistic traditions in East Asia, practiced for over 5,000 years.
This material is inseparable from a philosophy of duration, precision, and restraint. An urushi surface is built through the successive application of numerous ultra-thin layers of lacquer, each one cured and polished before the next. The process requires strict control of humidity, temperature, and gesture, embedding the work within a slow and demanding temporality.
Traditionally, urushi is applied using brushes made of human hair. The surface is then polished with very soft charcoal — often made from paulownia wood — until it reaches a depth and luminosity that seem to emanate from within the material itself. The final polish may be carried out using only the fingertips and vegetable oil, establishing a direct and intimate tactile relationship with the work.
In my practice, urushi is not merely a surface treatment, but a process of transformation. It functions as a threshold material: it envelops, protects, fossilizes, and transforms. The repetitive gesture, constrained by strict conditions, engages the body in a rhythm close to ritual, where the material dictates its own law and temporality.
Conceived to endure over time, these works do not seek visible virtuosity but rather a silent density. Urushi becomes a site of inscription where body, duration, and gesture are condensed, producing forms intended to last for centuries.
The rarity of urushi is intrinsic to its material reality: a single tree yields only a very limited amount of sap per harvesting season and requires many years to regenerate. Combined with the technical demands of the process, this scarcity gives urushi works a value rooted as much in materiality as in the time they crystallize.
